Conduit
by Scribbling Shroud
Summary: AU. The other villagers called him a demon. And Toushirou was perfectly willing to live with that. But when an invading force comes down upon the village, he discovers a power within him that begs the question. Are they right after all?


**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**Notes:** The rating is for violence, including some dismemberment.

_**Conduit**_

Winter was fast approaching, only a few more weeks until its onset. People in the village always began their preparations in earnest this time of year, for winters in the north tended to be especially cold and unforgiving. Even with all the preparation, a few people caught their deaths during the season every year. It was just the way things were. They weren't a rich village – better than most in the area, but that wasn't saying much – and some shelters were still not adequate despite best efforts.

Toushirou was lucky that his family lived in one of Junrinan's sturdiest houses.

He walked down a dirt street, in light clothing despite the chilly air, dragging a large sack of salt behind him. It was rather too big for him to hoist over his shoulder, so he had little choice as to how he got it home. He would not have accepted the help of any of the villagers if they had offered it. Not that any of them would.

Very few people were inclined to help a kid like him.

A man in his path caught sight of him and glared, but stepped aside. Though he knew it wouldn't help matters, Toushirou glared back out of the corner of his eye for a second as he continued on his way. Damn it, he hadn't even done anything to deserve the nasty look, but he'd been getting them most of his life. He liked to think that he could ignore them now – he was ten years old, turning eleven when the winter came, well on his way to adulthood – but every now and then, he would find himself reacting.

He'd been having a moodier spell lately. The treatment of the villagers must have been getting to him again.

With a quiet huff, he continued down the road toward the house he shared with his adoptive family. Finally, it came into view, and he smothered that little bit of thankfulness that sprang up within him at the sight. No need to be thankful. His arms weren't that tired from dragging the heavy sack around. Not at all. Really.

Toushirou stopped abruptly when he saw a figure emerge from the house – one that didn't belong there at all as far as he was concerned. He scowled at the young man – Kenta, the butcher's son – as he walked down a different street, presumably back to his father's shop. Good riddance. Never should have been at the house in the first place.

At last, he made it up to the door, and he paused here to take a breather. The damned sack of salt just had to be so heavy, didn't it? Toushirou frankly could not wait until he was stronger and taller, so he wouldn't be having these kinds of problems. The onset to adulthood simply could not begin soon enough.

"Hey! You can open the door anytime, stupid!"

His voice absolutely did not sound peevish. That was the way that little kids sounded, and was therefore far beneath him. This was annoyance, or irritation. Far more sophisticated than the railings of a small child, and no one would be able to convince him otherwise.

The door opened to reveal Momo looking mildly reproachful. "Shirou, that's no way to ask to be let in. Granny wouldn't be happy to hear you talking to someone like that." Her eyes cut to the load he'd been dragging, and the reproachful look was suddenly gone, replaced by a bright smile. "Oh, good, you got the salt!"

Toushirou gave her a look. "Of course I have it. I left specifically to get it. What did you expect me to come back with?" He paused here, and blinked, realizing that he'd missed something. "And don't call me Shirou."

Honestly, this girl just didn't get it sometimes. She could be so naïve and stupid about the weirdest things. Good thing he was around to keep her out of trouble, usually. Who knew where she might have been without him?

He dragged the sack forward as Momo stepped aside to let him in, determined to make it all the way to the kitchen before he stopped. The last thing he wanted was to falter in front of her and have her offer to help him. He didn't need help, damn it. The fact that Momo was four years older (and several inches taller) than him was irrelevant; he could do things for himself.

With a sigh of relief, Toushirou leaned his burden against one leg of the table. Made it. Of course. Not like that was a surprise, or anything. And now that the shopping was taken care of, they could resume the important process of salting the meat for winter storage.

But the sight of the meat sitting out, awaiting their work, brought the butcher's son back to mind. He regarded Momo suspiciously as she followed him into the kitchen, giving her a discerning look from top to bottom. She seemed okay, but he had to know what had happened here. It was only right, after all. She needed him to keep her out of trouble. If that bastard had tried anything . . .

"Why was Kenta here?" It actually did sound like a question, too. Which meant that he'd been able to keep some of the anger out of his voice. Quite an achievement for him.

Momo just giggled and ruffled his hair affectionately – which he hated, but she'd never stopped doing it no matter how many times he'd voiced the demand. "Shirou, you're so paranoid. He was just dropping off the rest of our order. Since Granny wasn't here, I took it. That's all. Nothing happened."

Toushirou's suspicious look did not abate. "He's not supposed to be here when Granny isn't. You know that, right? Doesn't he?"

If he had his way, Kenta wouldn't be allowed at their house at all. All the scum wanted was to get his hands on Momo, and nothing would convince Toushirou otherwise. But Granny had consented to let the young man call on her, so he had to tolerate it as best as he was able. He wouldn't have even tried to accept it had it not been Granny's decision.

"I told you it was completely innocent." Momo frowned at him. "And don't you trust me?"

Toushirou grunted. It wasn't a matter of not trusting her. Kenta was the one he didn't trust, and Momo was too damned nice to do anything about any attempts at impropriety. That was the real concern, here. Couldn't she see that? Stupid girl.

"I never said I didn't," he snapped. "Now are we just going to stand here and let the meat spoil, or are we going to get something done?"

With an exasperated sigh, Momo nodded. At least she had given in this time; the girl could be surprisingly stubborn when she chose to be and gave him no end of headaches when she tried to argue. Dropping the topic was good.

The room did not remain silent for long; Momo bounced back quickly and began nattering on about mundane village happenings. Toushirou rolled his eyes – one would think almost fondly – and listened to her anyway. Never knew when she might say something important.

* * *

"We've surely taken in a record haul this season. I fail to see how this is a problem."

"If we over-fish, we will damage the populations and it will result in hunger in future years. Do not be so short-sighted!"

Miyu rubbed at one aching temple with wrinkled fingers. All this squabbling was making her head hurt, and she had a brief impulse to make the other councilmen's heads feel the same, courtesy of her cane. Sometimes, she truly hated council meetings; they so often got reduced to shouting matches. Like today's.

"The ocean spirit would not allow us to go hungry! He will continue to provide for us as he always has!"

"How do you know that we haven't angered him with our careless use of his bounty?"

Miyu thumped one tiny fist onto the table, and all argument ceased. "I think we have argued on this matter long enough for today. And it hardly seems appropriate to make assumptions about the ocean spirit."

She showed no outward sign of satisfaction as the head councilman agreed with her, and proceeded to ask if there was any new business. Though she would like to say that her fellow politicians acted like children, that would have been disrespectful to children. Especially to the two currently under her care. Momo and Toushirou argued, but not to this degree.

"Indeed. We should return our attention to the affairs of men." Naoki nodded and folded his gnarled hands on the table in front of him. His face was grave when he next spoke. "There has been disturbing talk coming from the traders to the east. An army on the march, they say, traveling in our direction."

"Is there not always such talk? It seems foolish to me to rely upon the gossip of neighbours."

This came from Taikourou, one of the younger members of the council and always the first to voice a dissenting opinion. Miyu was of the firm belief that the man was contrary for the sake of it, taking the opposing side once an issue was brought up as a matter of course. Somehow, she doubted he even truly believed half of what he said.

"The trick, of course, is to separate rumours from news," she stated calmly. If she didn't break in now, tempers might flare again and the topic would not be given its due. And she didn't want her headache to worsen from another bout of yelling. "I have heard the talk myself, and the accounts only get more detailed as time goes on. The traders' expressions have become more haggard with each telling. I think that we must consider the distinct possibility that this is no rumour; it has not the ring of one."

"And trade has slowed in recent weeks," Naoki continued. "Far too early; the winter storms are not yet upon us. It should be weeks yet before such a decrease occurs."

Yes, there was that, as well. Miyu took this talk of an army very seriously, and was already working through ideas in her mind on how to deal with it should it be true. There was no guarantee that Junrinan would be invaded, but there was even less of one that it would not. Unfortunately, she was drawing blanks on solutions.

Taikourou piped up again in argument, and Miyu set her jaw. She had a feeling that the meeting was going to run long today.

* * *

Toushirou was one of the few that did not lament the onset of winter. Some of the more sympathetic villagers would argue that he had more reason to do that than most. According to Granny, a particularly bad winter had taken his parents from him not two months after his birth.

He didn't need sympathy for that. It wasn't as though he'd ever known them.

A gust of wind ruffled his hair as he sat on the rocky outcrop overlooking the sea. Though he was still lightly clad, he did not shiver or huddle against the breeze. Cold didn't bother him nearly as much as it seemed to bother anyone else. In fact, he rather liked it.

Momo wrote it off as a quirk of his. Currently, she was huddled under a pair of heavy blankets and drifting off to sleep. She'd admonished him that he should be getting to bed as well – with remarks that sleep would help him grow, no less – but he had refused. She wasn't his boss, and he rather enjoyed the dark of night.

He watched the seas intently. Far more intently than he should have. Sure, they were tossing a bit heavily, but that was no reason to stare at them so. He'd come out here tonight, as he did sometimes, to pull himself out of his bitter mood. He still hadn't quite let go of that incident with Kenta. (Yes, it was an incident, even if Momo claimed that nothing happened.)

A wave splashed high against the outcrop, and a rumbling sound filled his ears. Thunder perhaps? Toushirou turned his eyes to the sky, and his brow furrowed. No. Not thunder. The sky was perfectly clear, lit by a crescent moon and a scattering of stars, with no sign at all of an approaching storm. Then what the hell was that rumbling?

When the sound came again, he focused all of his attention on it. Then he blinked. The noise was in his mind. And if he hadn't known better, he would have thought that it had the distinct quality of a voice. But he did know better. It wasn't a voice, couldn't be a voice. He didn't foolishly believe in spirits like almost everyone else in the village. The world was a strange enough place without all that nonsense.

"Rather late for you to be out here, isn't it, Toushirou?"

He merely shrugged as Granny settled beside him, resting her cane across her lap. So what if it was late? He always got up on time and got things done. Telling him when to go to bed was patently unnecessary. But he would never say that. Not to Granny, at least.

"So, what's bothering you this time?" she asked, clearly not at all put off by his silence. "You only come out here when you're agitated in some way."

Had anyone else asked him this, Toushirou would have denied any negative emotions. If he had them, it was nobody's business but his. For Granny, though, he would answer. "Just the usual."

Granny sighed. "More talk of you being a demon? It's sad that people don't know better than that by now."

"They're idiots."

There was more to his mood than the usual, of course, but he'd told the truth. He'd heard the whispers behind his back all his life, and when he got a little older, people started saying it to his face. He was a demon, some otherworldly beast. How else to explain how he, as a mere infant, had survived alone for two days during the frigid winter storm that had killed his parents?

Everyone save for Granny had been too afraid to take him in. Toushirou imagined that there had also been debate over whether they should let him live at all. Idiots, like he said.

"I suppose that they are." Granny chuckled, and he found some satisfaction in that. "We both have a lot of them to deal with, unfortunately. I am amazed sometimes that the council ever manages to make a decision."

Toushirou snorted and stared at the sea again. The rumbling in his mind had stopped, but for all he knew, it could resume at any time. And maybe his brain would try to convince him again that it really was a voice. Which of course it wasn't.

They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the waves hit upon the shore. Toushirou preferred silence more often than not, and he found no fault with these moments. Granny was a little more inclined to want to talk, but she would speak when she had a mind to, and not before; she liked him to have his peace.

"You'd best be going home and getting to bed," Granny said at last, smiling kindly down at him when he scowled. "There is great unrest anymore, and I fear it will only get worse in the coming weeks. I am certain that you and Momo have heard the rumours. Just in case, I know you would wish to be at your most alert."

"She's babbled about them to me." Toushirou snorted, trying to make it sound like it was in disgust rather than agitation. A good share of the time, he tuned Momo out, since she talked a lot of brain-aching nonsense, but he'd caught the rumours about an incoming army. And if Granny thought there was truth to them, then he had better pay attention. "I'm always alert."

Granny gave him a stern look, and he heaved a sigh of resignation. Arguing with her was a waste of time. Toushirou pushed himself to his feet and made the trek back to their house, not making any special efforts to be quiet; Momo slept like the dead.

And he was well on his own way to sleep by the time that Granny finally returned.

The air around him was frigid, even considering his almost unnatural resistance to the cold. Off in the distance, he spied towering mountains, but they seemed almost a dream, inaccessible from the ice floe – one among an uncounted many stretched over an icy ocean – upon which he stood.

* * *

_Toushirou was certain that he had never been here before, and yet this place sparked a sense of familiarity in him. He did not spare a thought to wonder where he was, or how and why he'd come to be here. It just felt right, in some way that he could not honestly explain. It felt . . . comfortable._

_But the floe shifted abruptly, sending him scrambling for balance. He slipped and stumbled to his knees, though through sheer force of will kept himself from tumbling into the waters below. The ocean rocked and churned, forcing him to grab hold of the floe's edge with desperate fingers to keep his head above the waves. His focus was not on that, however._

_No, his focus was on the set of massive red eyes that had risen from the depths, fearsome and ageless. Those eyes focused upon him in turn as the creature's head continued to break the ocean's surface, the long snout and bared fangs revealing that it could only be a dragon._

_A stab of anxiety went through him even as he stared, trying not to betray his awe at the sight. Surely the dragon wanted awe or terror, and Toushirou would not give that to it if he could help it. He bent to the will of no beast, not even one that could swallow him whole without a second thought._

_"Boy," the dragon's voice thundered, nearly causing him to lose his grip. "Do you know?"_

_In spite of himself, Toushirou blinked. What the hell was the dragon asking questions for? Especially such a cryptic one? "Do I know what? What are you talking about?"_

_"Do you know?" the dragon repeated._

_"I don't know what you mean!" he shouted. "I can't answer a question like that!"_

_The breeze picked up at that moment, actually drowning out the dragon's voice. The beast was trying to speak, perhaps trying to explain, but Toushirou could no longer make out the words. All he could hear was the wind._

* * *

Toushirou hated being confused. He hated it so much, but that damned dream was doing it to him.

His rest had been oddly peaceful every night the dream came, yet its contents annoyed and baffled him. That dragon and those questions, the roaring wind that kept him from hearing something that he was certain was important . . .

Momo rubbed at her arms and shivered playfully. "Goodness, these past few nights have been chilly! I guess winter is really coming on, isn't it? You're so lucky to not be bothered by this, Shirou."

He rolled his eyes. Yes, he was so very lucky to be the way that he was. It felt great being treated as less than human by the majority of the village. "If you're that cold, wear heavier clothes, stupid."

"There you go, being mean again." Momo huffed indignantly. "I'll have you know that I've been wearing my wool nightclothes for the past three nights. So it's not because I'm not bundling up."

"Well, quit complaining, then." Toushirou didn't bother to look up from the pages he was reading. He was busy at his studies, thank you very much, and he could use a little peace and quiet. "Don't you have anything else to do?"

"Children," came Granny's admonishing voice as she stepped into the room, arms wrapped around her torso in a clear effort to conserve heat. "It is too early in the morning for such petty arguments."

Toushirou frowned at the way that she was hugging herself. She didn't do that very often, and usually not until the midst of winter, when the cold was at its worst. Though she was getting older, and elderly people tended to get bothered by such things; their bodies had been through so much that they became vulnerable. It could just be a natural sign of aging, being more affected by the cold.

He shifted in his chair. More reading, and less wondering if Granny might not be around much longer. That was much better.

"Oh, Granny, are you cold?" Momo asked, her voice laced with concern. She hurried toward the kitchen. "Should I make you some nice hot tea to get rid of the chill? I'll be having some myself, so it's not an imposition."

There was a knock at the door before Granny could answer, and Toushirou glared in the door's direction. Was there no end to these distractions? He was actually tempted to answer the door himself, in the hopes that it would scare off the visitor; such things had been known to happen, and he didn't want to be bothered with pointless nonsense right now.

"Elder Miyu!" The voice on the other side sounded panicked and heavy, as though its owner had run full across the village to reach their doorstep. "The council has called an emergency session! They say that army fires can be seen on the horizon!"

Toushirou's focus on the papers in front of him was a distant memory, now. Army fires. Those stupid rumours were actually true? He'd lent them a little more credence once he'd found out that Granny was at least considering them, but he honestly hadn't expected anything to come from them. They didn't live in some big, important city. What in hell would an army want with Junrinan?

"Toushirou. Sit back down."

He blinked when he realized that he must have clambered out of the chair at the frantic report. Reluctantly, he obeyed Granny's firm order and sank back into his seat. This was important information, and he wanted to have it, but it was her business as a council member first. Maybe he would ask her about it later.

"I'll be on my way. Go ahead and inform anyone else you need to find." Granny pulled a heavy cloak off the hooks on the wall and securely wrapped it around her body. She eyed both him and Momo in turn, features stern. "Stay here. Both of you."

With that, Granny hurried out the door, surprisingly quickly for a woman of her advanced age. Toushirou stared after her, eyes hard as usual.

_"Do you know, yet? The importance grows, boy."_

"Shut up, you," he snapped. That damned cryptic question again. He rolled his eyes at Momo when she blinked in confusion and pique. "Not you, stupid."

That only earned him another bewildered look, and he suddenly realized how he must have sounded. She hadn't heard the dragon speak. The voice was only in his mind, and it was the first time it had spoken to him outside of the dream. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

* * *

"Can we truly be certain that these are army fires? Who here could be so knowledgeable about such things? We're fishermen, not soldiers."

Miyu broke in before yet another heated argument could begin. "I hardly think intimate military knowledge is required to recognize such a thing. Haruka stated that she saw tens of smoke plumes over the rise, and that is far more than what would be needed for a simple trading party. We'd be foolish to ignore the signs; we should operate under the assumption that there is indeed an army gathered."

"That's right." Haruka nodded. One of the newer council members, she more often than not found herself dismissed out of hand. To her credit, though, she persisted. "Why take chances? The worst that can happen for checking is that we look foolish. The worst than can happen for not checking is death. I'd say the choice is obvious."

A quiet murmur went through the council, rather a welcome sound as compared to the usual shouts. Miyu stayed silent through it all, having nothing to say until the issue was brought back to the table properly. That they had to do something about this was hardly up for debate. But the nature of the action they took was, and could well depend on just what it was that this army wanted.

"If we could debate in a way that everyone could hear, that would be preferable, I should think." The head councilman's voice echoed off the walls and put a stop to the murmurs. "It seems only logical that we treat this with seriousness; better to be fools than corpses."

Miyu nodded, rubbing her hands absently; they still carried a chill like every other morning this past week. "We should send someone to speak with their leaders, to learn what they want. Before that, it is difficult to know best what course to take."

A bitter chuckle broke forth in response to her words, and Miyu's eyes cut to her left. Her suggestion was a serious one, and Susumu saw fit to laugh at it. Nothing about this was a laughing matter. At the moment, she was rather sorry that she'd forgotten her cane when she'd darted out of the house. The man could use a good solid whack on the head.

"What course to take?" he asked. "Are you daft, old woman? If there truly is an army up there, would you have us oppose it? That's just as foolish as not checking at all. We're in no position to defy an invading force; we would be slaughtered."

Miyu frowned at these words, and the nearly unanimous agreement that swept through the council. Not that the statements were poorly reasoned, but because that had not been her point. Of course they couldn't stand up to an army. That was what made finding out their intent even more important.

"My point," she said after the council had settled, "is that if we know what they're after, we may even be able to convince them that we can't provide what they need, that it would be a waste of time to approach us. That is quite different than sentencing us to death."

The head councilman nodded, folding his hands on the table. "True. But we must also consider that we may indeed have what they want. And if that is the case, I won't risk anyone's life. It's better and more honourable to keep everyone safe."

Sighing in resignation, Miyu nodded once in agreement. It was hardly an ideal situation, and an action that she might have opposed on principle if not for the children in her care. Surrendering to outside forces was not her way, but an army could destroy so much. They could well kill Toushirou, and as for Momo . . . there was every possibility that they might find various unsavoury uses for a young teenage girl. She could not just endanger them like that.

"Then let me go and speak with them." They needed someone level-headed to deal with this matter, and a good half of the council failed to qualify. "Give me an hour or so to prepare and let the children know that I will be away, and I will do my best to resolve this matter."

The head councilman lifted his palm to still her when she started to rise from her chair. "Hold, Miyu. You are a fine negotiator, but these are young men. They would hold no regard for your position, or even believe you have it purely on account of being a woman. It is better, I think, for me to go; there is less risk of my being dismissed out of hand."

He had a point, damn him. Miyu sat again, face pulled into a frown. "Sound logic; I'll concede the point."

Susumu smiled wryly. "If worst comes to worst, we could just offer them the demon-child as a sacrifice. For all we know, that's what they came for, anyway. Evil seeking evil, and all that."

"My grandson is as human as you or I, and you've no right to suggest such a thing." Miyu's lip curled in fury. It was a sentiment that she heard often enough, one that Toushirou lived with every day, but it never failed to anger her. "It's completely irrelevant to the matter at hand."

Instead of backing off, Susumu leveled a glare of his own. "You always defend that so-called child. What if he really is what they're after? Would you sacrifice the rest of us just to preserve his measly life?"

"Enough!" The head councilman's voice boomed over them, and the room fell into silence. "Miyu, do not rise to his bait. And Susumu, her adopted grandson is not the issue here. At least not yet. Wait until we have definitive proof before saying such things."

Miyu reined herself in, but not before giving the head councilman himself a cutting glance. Not yet, was it? Normally, she held a certain amount of esteem for the man, but this incident had notched that down considerably. For all that it was couched in more reasonable tones, he too was worried that Toushirou might be the issue. The village's prejudice ran deep.

"This meeting is adjourned. I will make my preparations and leave before the morning is out."

* * *

Studying maps had to be the most boring part of the job. He wouldn't do it at all if he wasn't trying to prove to the general that he could lead his own operations. It was only a small raid, but even the small things counted to General Luisenbarn, and so he would give this all the attention that it deserved.

Ggio caught himself as his chin slipped off his fist, and he shook his head. Damn, he'd nearly fallen asleep staring at this thing. Though they hadn't been camped out here very long, he was itching to get out of the tent and into the field. He could sit back and he could plan, but he very much preferred to be out in the thick of battle.

And really, how much strategy could be involved in taking down that seaside hovel a couple hours' journey to the west? Probably just another gaggle of country buffoons, with no real threat among them. Hell, if not for the fact that it bordered the ocean, the general would not have ordered it to be taken; it would have been a waste of their time.

With a huff, Ggio returned his attention to the map on the table in front of him. This village – Junrinan, was it? – was located on the tip of a peninsula, bordered by the ocean on three sides. They didn't need to set up a proper perimeter, just block off the only viable escape route. He had a couple hundred troops at his disposal; it would be more than enough.

He tapped one foot impatiently. What was he doing just sitting here? He should just round up the men and lay waste to their target. There really was no reason to wait any longer, with only a simple plan needed.

That settled, Ggio pushed himself to his feet, ready to give the order. But before he could, a shadow stopped in front of his tent and stood at attention. Too bad. If there was a problem, then it could wait.

"Commander Vega." The man spoke his title in a brisk, respectful tone. "A man who says he's one of the elders of Junrinan is requesting negotiations with you."

Ggio sighed in disgust, but pulled back the tent flap to join his soldier in the chilly afternoon air. Damn northern winters. And it wasn't even winter proper, yet. His eyes swept across the camp, somewhat mollified that his troops were keeping themselves busy with preparations. Good. Then they wouldn't be too long when he gave the order to move out.

"They must have a damned fool for a leader then," he snapped. "Though out here in the middle of nowhere, I guess that's to be expected; it's a miracle that they have the brains to survive long enough to reproduce."

Really. Negotiations? Country hicks came up with the stupidest ideas. There was nothing negotiable about the matter at hand. General Luisenbarn wanted the village taken for strategic purposes. Nothing could change that. And defying the general was a thought that would never make it into Ggio's mind in the first place.

"Do you want us to just kill him or send him back, sir?"

A smirk tugged on his lips. Oh, one of those would be the simplest solution, but there was no fun to be had in such simplicity. This leader had no hope of saving his pathetic little home, but that was no reason to deprive him of thinking that there was a way. For a few moments, at least.

He waved a hand nonchalantly at the soldier. "Nah, I'll spare him a few words. Get the troops ready. I want to be moving out by mid-afternoon. Don't let anybody slack; this is what the general wants, after all. I don't think you'd want to piss him off."

"Y-yes, sir! Right away!" The soldier paled at all that, and scurried off to follow orders.

A wicked chuckle escaped Ggio at that; mentioning the general always got that reaction out of the men. Not that he was any more eager to incur the man's wrath, but at least he didn't stammer and scramble about at a mere mention. Footsoldiers were so skittish.

He made his way through the camp, weaving his smaller frame expertly through the bustle. It had been a challenge at first, to get the men to accept the authority that the general placed in him, but now there was not a soul among them who would dare defy his orders – being as he'd personally eliminated the last two to have done so. The blows had been swift and precise; the idiots had never seen them coming.

No one had disobeyed him since.

At last, he reached the edge of the camp, his eyes lighting on the tall, lean form of a middle-aged man flanked by two soldiers. He waved the soldiers away as he approached, sizing up their visitor out of habit. The man didn't have much going for him beyond his height, and he shook visibly, whether from the cold or from fear, Ggio neither knew nor cared.

He folded his arms and regarded the man sternly. "So. My people tell me you want to talk. Out with it, then. I'm kinda busy."

The man blinked at him, as though having trouble with the fact that he was in charge. Another person like that, was he? "I . . . don't mean to take up an undue amount of your time. We could not help but notice the signs of your camp from our small village and wonder whether we were worthy of your effort to besiege." He bowed at the shoulder in a pitiful show of respect. "I am Ozaki Rikuto, head of Junrinan's village council. If you would, please allow for a discussion over what it may take to spare us?"

Well, wasn't he a damned polite fellow? It was probably a smart move, seeing as he was in enemy hands, but it amused Ggio nonetheless. This fool really thought that he had a chance to make a difference. How . . . cute.

"Discussion I can do. What exactly is it that makes you think you're not worth the minimal effort to crush you?"

Ozaki paled at his phrasing, but actually got up the courage to keep speaking. "With respect, we are hardly the most prosperous village, and rather remote. There seems to be little there that you would value, and surely you would not wish to waste your precious time there. But if there is something we are able to provide, we will do so without the need for violence. What exactly is it that you desire?"

Ggio nodded absently along with the man's speech, fingers idly drumming on the hilt of his sword. Once or twice, he caught Ozaki eying the motion and twitching nervously, and he grinned inwardly at that. Let the idiot wonder if he was going to pull it or not. Hell, even Ggio himself wasn't sure whether or not he'd decide to do it. He preferred to let the moment make those kinds of decisions.

His eyes flashed momentarily at the question. "That's a hell of a thing to be asking an invading force. Do you really think I'd tell you something like that, old man? What I want isn't for the likes of you to know. I can find it myself."

"I . . . I didn't mean . . ." Ozaki swallowed, then cleared his throat before continuing. "Please forgive my presumption; I think only of the safety of my people. But if you were to tell me, I could save you the trouble of having to find it yourself. Whatever . . . or whoever you are searching for."

His hand stilled on the sword. Whoever he was searching for? Why in hell would he be searching for anyone out here in the middle of nowhere? It was such an odd offer, and he found himself wondering just what had prompted Ozaki to say such a thing. Might as well ask, feign a little interest.

"Whoever, you say?" He made his voice lighter and more curious, as though he were actually entertaining the possibility. "Who exactly do you have in that village of yours that you think might be of interest to me?"

Like the fool that he was, Ozaki latched onto the little thread of hope. "We know not if he is truly human, for all that he looks like a child. Speculation has continued since the deaths of his parents. Some have been wondering if it has been the boy's dark presence drawing you forward. There is little love for him in the village, and he could be given readily if he is your purpose."

Ggio lifted an eyebrow at this explanation. What, so the people thought they had some sort of demon among them, in the form of a little orphan boy? How absurd. Countryfolk were so gullible it was almost embarrassing. Furthermore, if there had been a dark presence anywhere in the area, he would have been able to sense it himself. There was nothing. No threat at all.

"Get lost." He snorted and waved Ozaki off. This conversation was over; he needed to check on the preparations. "I'll think about what you said. If I decide to take you up on it, I'll head down on my own to see to the deal."

Ozaki blinked. "I . . . Very well. Thank you for considering it."

Ggio watched him turn and leave, steps that to his credit were very steady. He seemed so sure that there was a possibility of his people being spared. As if Ggio would stop the attack because he got ahold of some useless brat. It just made no sense at all.

"Hey, Ozaki!" he called out. When the man turned, Ggio abruptly drew a dagger and whipped it at his head. The blade crunched through the skull, right between the widened eyes, and Ozaki dropped lifeless to the ground.

Ggio stepped casually over to him and knelt to pull the dagger free. It came out cleanly, the signal of a perfect shot, and he wiped the blood and brain matter on his sleeve before sheathing the weapon again. A devilish smirk quirked his lips.

"I changed my mind."

* * *

_He'd gotten used to the harsh conditions of the dream. He truly had, which was why he was so taken aback by the violence that the sea and sky now held._

_He scrabbled for purchase on the floe as the seas tossed, only finding it briefly before losing his grip again. Water splashed over him, freezing even by his standards. Teeth chattering, he renewed his efforts. Maybe it really was just a dream, and couldn't actually do him any harm, but that didn't matter. No damned dream was going to get the best of him._

_A rumble tore through the air, and at first he assumed that it was thunder. But when he looked up involuntarily, he saw just how very inaccurate that assumption had been._

_He had never seen the dragon in full before, and even in his predicament, he could not help but stare. The massive body, covered in pale blue scales, lashed about in the high winds, tail smashing into the water with such force that it shattered the icy coverings. Wings beat heavily against the air, giving him the fleeting impression that the dragon was not reacting to the storm, but was in fact the cause of it._

_At last, he found a solid grip, and hauled himself to his knees. He blinked abruptly as he realized that the dragon had not said a word to him this time. That was strange. The dragon always spoke, if only to ask inane, incomplete questions. But this time there was only the thunderous roar, and he found that more disturbing than perhaps he should have. He hated those questions; why should he care that they were absent?_

_The sea tossed again, nearly causing him to lose his balance, and he snarled. "Hey! What the hell? Idiot dragon, are you trying to kill me? If you're going to drag me here, at least have it make some kind of damned sense!"_

_He caught sight of flaring red eyes, and a small part of his mind wondered whether insulting the creature had been the best thing to do. But he could not wonder for long, as the tail collided with the water again, in time with a harsh beat of the wings. This time, he could not maintain his balance, and tumbled below the frigid waves._

_He'd never bothered to learn how to swim, so his arms and legs instinctively flailed about, trying to catch solid handholds of water to claw his way back to the surface. One thing or another he was doing must have been right, for though he couldn't bring his head back above water, he managed to keep himself from sinking any further. But that did not alleviate the burning in his lungs. He needed air, and fast._

_Could dreams actually kill someone?_

_He saw those red eyes again, right in front of his face, and he braced himself for an attack. What else could come? The dragon was just a stupid beast, right? No matter that it had spoken to him in the past._

_And yet the next thing he knew, he was high above the sea's surface, resting atop the huge body, even as he could still see the tail lashing in fury. Soaked and haggard, but very much alive, he nonetheless settled a glare upon the dragon. What the hell was all that for? Couldn't the damned beast make up its mind?_

_"It is most unwise for you to levy such insults to one who could crush you without a thought, boy. Feel lucky that I am merciful toward you."_

_He snorted. Well, there was the dragon talking again, and instead of a questioning, he got a scolding. Who the hell did the beast think it was, speaking to him that way, as though he held some kind of authority over him? He would not be so easily cowed._

_"So do you know, yet?" the dragon asked before he could form a retort. "I grow impatient, boy, and you have little time."_

_"Well, maybe I could answer you if you'd ask a complete question for a change. How exactly am I supposed to respond to what you're asking? I don't even know what it is!"_

_Stupid dragon. Why couldn't it understand that?_

_The dragon huffed indignantly, nearly sending him tumbling from its back and below the waves once again. "I should not have to express every single small detail for you. You are an intelligent child, and should easily be able to figure out what I am asking you. Until you understand this, there is no reason for us to continue speaking._

_"But make it quick, boy, or you may lose the chance entirely."_

* * *

"Shirou? Shirou, are you okay?"

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, and coupled with the voice – and that damned nickname – it was an easy matter to deduce that it was Momo. His eyes flared open at the concerned tones, and he pinned her with a questioning scowl. If something was wrong, she had better tell him and do so promptly. He couldn't fix a problem that he didn't know the nature of.

Momo sighed in relief. "Oh, good, you're awake. You had me so scared! I've never seen you shiver like that! Are you sick?"

Awake, yes, thanks to her. He'd been trying to have his regular afternoon nap (since Granny as well as Momo claimed that sleep aided in growth, not that he was that short, or anything) before she'd interrupted him. Maybe he didn't enjoy having those dreams, but was it so much to ask that people in the real world let him have some peace for an hour or two?

"I'm fine. Quit worrying over every little thing," he snapped. He might have gone on over how stupid she was being, but he blinked at the realization that she was wearing a cloak, and shivering a bit herself. "Where did you go while I was asleep?"

Momo sat back in a chair, her huff of breath steaming into the air. "I didn't go anywhere. It's freezing in here, so I put on a cloak. And a good thing, because if even you got cold, then it's pretty bad." She paused here, blinking in worry. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Quit mothering me."

She pouted at him. "I just want to make sure you're all right. That's not mothering. And you're being mean."

He sat up at last, with a frustrated sigh. Being mean, was he? Well, maybe if he didn't have to deal with these confusing dreams, he'd be in a slightly better mood. It wasn't his fault at all. But when he saw genuine hurt behind Momo's brown eyes, something inside him crumbled as it always did. How did she do that? It had been happening all his life, and he had still failed to figure that out.

"Look, I'm fine, okay?" His tone was softer, his expression less severe. Perhaps he hadn't been being fair a moment ago; being cold enough to shiver was a rather uncommon thing for him. It would only be logical for Momo to find that strange, and she was a worrier.

Toushirou made a move to push himself up off the couch, but paused when his hands brushed against the cushions, finding them cold and moist. Frowning in disgust – he was not the bedwetter between the two of them – he looked down to find a light film of frost under his fingertips. What the hell?

"Shirou?" Momo approached him again. "What's wrong? Are you – Is that frost?"

"Well, what the hell else could it be, stupid?" He didn't actually mean for the words to come out like that, but it was a bit more difficult to control his tone when he was agitated. "Have you noticed it anywhere else around the house?"

Momo bit her lip, eyes abstracting in thought, before shaking her head. "No. I mean, I haven't exactly explored every little corner, but I think I would have noticed if there was frost all over the place. Do you think there might be some damage to the house that's letting the weather in a bit? It's been awfully chilly in here the past few days."

He didn't speak, mouth pulling down into a deeper frown than usual. No, that couldn't be the case. If it were, the frost would not be so localized. And they would have noticed any drafty sections of the house by now. None of this could have been caused by outside forces. Then how else could it have happened?

Toushirou stilled as a possibility swept through him. Granny and Momo had started commenting on the temperature the first night after he'd had the dream. And just now, the dream had been more volatile than it had ever been. Was the dragon doing this somehow? Was its influence leaking into the real world while he was asleep?

"Well," Momo said, seemingly oblivious to his sudden discomfort. "Maybe we can just ask Kenta to check out a few of the more difficult spots when he comes over this evening. You know, closer up to the ceiling, and all that. Maybe there's stuff up there we can't see."

Oh, he did not need to hear that name right now. It was bad enough that the dragon was bleeding power through him into the real world and threatening to freeze his family. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was someone who wanted take part of that family away from him, in the damned stupid belief that he was protecting her from him. Idiot. As if he'd ever hurt Momo.

His eyes flicked back to the frost on the couch. Not intentionally, he wouldn't. But it might happen accidentally if he failed to find a way to stop this.

"We don't need any help from that bastard." The words slipped out instinctively, but Toushirou did not regret them in the least. He'd never made any secret of his disapproval of the man. "He should just keep his damned nose out of our business; it's not any of his."

He pushed himself off the couch and stormed toward the door, Momo's voice following him.

"Don't be like that, Shirou! Look, I know you don't like him, and he doesn't understand about you, but that's no reason to not at least try and get along. And where do you think you're going, anyway?"

The temperature dropped around him, almost imperceptibly. There she went mothering again, and defending that ass of a suitor. He didn't have to listen to this. And he didn't want to be here while he could feel the dragon's influence spilling through him. He would not allow it to hurt her, damn it.

Momo's hand closed around his shoulder just before he got to the door, and he stiffened. He looked back at her with his usual unimpressed expression, rather unsettled at the sadness in her eyes. She should not look like that. Not ever. And now it was his fault that she did.

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden? I don't remember the last time you've been this angry with me. If I've upset you so much, you should tell me."

Roughly, he shrugged off her hand; the air against his body was getting colder still and she shouldn't be touching him. "I'm not angry with you. If you insist on knowing where I'm going, then it's to my usual spot. You can let Granny know if you want, but I don't want anyone following me."

Her eyes became even more downcast, and she reached over to take the smallest cloak down from the wall. Resigned, she held it out to him. "At least take this. It feels like it's getting colder."

There were no words, and so he said nothing. But he did take the cloak and wrap it securely around his body. Not that it helped much, but it seemed to appease Momo somewhat.

Toushirou stepped out into the world, ducking his head a bit against the blast of wind that rushed over him and trying not to shiver at the association with the dragon's wings. Did he know? That was what the dragon kept asking. And he needed to be alone in order to even divine the real question, much less the answer.

He had some overdue thinking to attend to.

* * *

Only a couple of hours of light remained, but that should be enough.

The village looked even less impressive from up close than it did from afar. Sure, it wasn't as dirty and scruffy looking as the last few that Ggio had seen, but like all remote settlements, it lacked a certain atmosphere. The people in these places probably died just as much from boredom as they did from the cold.

They should count themselves lucky today, then. He could show them much more exciting ways to die.

He drew the shortsword from his sheath, and held it up at an angle to catch the light of the sun. Ggio did not care for shouting his orders, preferring instead more subtle signals such as this. His men knew what this one meant by now.

Grinning as the troops charged past him, he waited a moment before taking off himself. In short order, he was at the head of the force – these people had never learned to keep up with his speed and never would – blade held in the reverse grip that he found the most comfortable. The time for waiting and planning was over. This was the fun part.

* * *

Why wasn't he back yet? Okay, so maybe it hadn't been particularly long, but Momo had rarely seen Toushirou that wound up, and she could not help worrying over him. She paced, wrung her hands. Perhaps she should go out to the cliffs anyway, even though he'd told her that he didn't want anyone there with him. Even Toushirou, solitary as he was, needed people sometimes.

A knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts, and Granny called out from the kitchen for her to answer it. Right. They had company, and she had to be the best hostess she could under the circumstances. It would be pretty bad if she failed to manage something as simple as letting the guest in. So she smoothed down her clothes and pasted the closest thing she could manage to a smile onto her face before opening the door.

"Kenta. It's nice to see you again," she said in a tone that was a little more subdued than she wanted it. Really, how long was Toushirou planning on staying at the cliffs? He always made it a point to keep a suspicious eye on Kenta, ever since the young man had started calling on her.

"And it's always nice to see you, Momo." He tilted his head as he stepped inside, a few strands of sandy brown hair falling into his eyes. "What's the matter? You don't seem to be your usual cheery self. Anything I can do to help?"

Her lips twitched upward for the briefest second; he was very sweet to offer, even if he wouldn't understand why she was so upset. "Oh, no, I'm afraid not. It's just . . . Toushirou left here a while ago, looking really disturbed. I think something's bothering him, but he won't tell me. And he hasn't come back yet."

Had she paid more attention, Momo would have noticed the quick flare of disgust that flashed through his eyes at the mention of Toushirou. But as it was, she was too concerned for her friend to pay mind to such things.

"Well, it's not like anything can hurt him, right? Would've known that by now," he said casually, encasing her hand in a gentle grip as an effort of comfort. "I've gotta be honest, Momo, it'll be nice to not have the kid glaring at me like he's about to rip me open. Sometimes I fear for my life, coming here."

Without thinking, Momo smacked his hand away. "Kenta, just stop it. Toushirou would never attack you. He's not the horrible monster most of the village thinks he is. I'd really appreciate if you'd give him more of a chance; he's very important to me."

Kenta blinked down at his hand in disbelief that she'd actually hit him, then looked at her with wide eyes. "Ah, Momo. Look, I'm sorry, okay? It's just an instinctive reaction I haven't gotten rid of yet. If he comes back, I'll do my best to be nice. I promise."

She regarded him levelly for a moment, and then her face softened a little. "Thank you. I really want the two of you to be able to get along. He's just protective of me, and takes a lot of time to warm up to people. He's not a bad person at all." She tugged on his arm. "Why don't you come and sit down? Granny is busy in the kitchen right now, but we can still talk."

Momo was not ignorant of the popular sentiment against Toushirou among the villagers, Kenta included. But Kenta never seemed to actually act mean to him, and was even willing to try and get past his dislike. He was a good person at heart; he just didn't understand about Toushirou yet. But given time, he would. She had faith in that. If only more people were willing to offer that chance.

She engaged in idle conversation, her mind not really on the words being spoken. Not that it mattered; quite a few people found themselves confused by what she said even when she was paying attention. Instead, she could not help the continued wondering at Toushirou's absence. Was he okay? Did he need some help? After all, those rumours about an army on the horizon had increased a hundred fold in the past few hours. Maybe she should tell Granny that they should go look for him if he wasn't back in the next few minutes. But surely he'd be back, right?

A sudden cacophony of shouts and crashes sprung up in the distance, and Momo jumped in her seat. What was that? It didn't sound normal at all. She broke off in mid-sentence, hurried over to the nearest window, and pried open the shutters. Heedless of the cold, she stuck her head out to get a wider field of view.

She drew in a sharp breath at the sight.

Clouds of dust roiled up into the air from a broken-down building, its occupants trying to crawl out from underneath the debris. She had to say just trying, for most of them were cut down by men in strange armour. One of them was dragged to their feet and thrown into the other men, but at this distance she could not tell who. In the shock of the moment, Momo could not even register whose house that had been.

"Momo, what – the hell?" Kenta had started with a concerned tone, but he must have caught sight of the ordeal outside, because he went straight into astonished horror. His hands latched firmly onto her shoulders. "Get away from the window. Before anyone sees you. Come on!"

Momo didn't have time to protest before he pulled her back and to the side. Or perhaps she was still too stunned. Oh, by the ocean spirit, were those rumours really accurate? And hadn't Granny said that the head councilman had gone to negotiate with the army if there was one out there? The sounds of destruction outside pounded through her head, making it difficult to get her bearings. This was all happening too fast, too soon. She just couldn't seem to process it.

"You two are all right?" Granny's voice managed to break through her whirling thoughts, and she blinked at her. Granny hurried forward and slammed the shutters closed. "You shouldn't be looking out there. It's too dangerous. Just stay in where it's safer."

Kenta nodded. "We're both fine, ma'am. And Momo, she's right. You'd just be putting yourself in danger if you went out there."

Danger outside. Yes, there was quite a bit of danger outside. Granny and Kenta were probably right; it was better to stay in here, where there was some semblance of safety. And she might even have done so had a horrendous thought not suddenly overtaken her mind.

Toushirou was still outside. He could be in the middle of that. He could be in trouble.

"He's still out there! I have to find him!" She wriggled out of Kenta's grasp with an ease that would have surprised her had she not been so desperate. "Granny, Shirou might be in danger!"

"Wait, Momo!"

This time, she paid no heed to Granny's voice, instead charging straight for the front door. She was, for all intents and purposes, an adult; she could handle herself. Toushirou was still a child; he would need help. She couldn't just leave him to face the chaos out there without family by his side.

A strong hand caught her arm just before she reached the door, bringing her up short. Kenta stepped into her path, grip still powerful and eyes both worried and firm. That wasn't what she needed to see right now. She had to get out.

"Momo, weren't you listening? You'll get yourself killed if you leave here!" He pried her hand away with his other one when she started trying to pull away from his grasp. "I doubt someone like him is in as much trouble as you think he is. Just calm down and think, damn it! Do you really want to die?"

She gave him a harsh glare, an expression that felt so very alien on her face. This was not the time for his misconceptions about Toushirou. Nothing was going to make her believe that his life was not in danger unless she saw to it with her own eyes. "He's just a boy! Of course he needs help! Now move! Please!"

Her struggles renewed, but she could find no way to get free. She didn't have time for this. Every second counted, and every delay could cost her the life of someone she held dear.

"You can't just throw your life away like this! I'm not going to let you!"

Tears gathered in her eyes. There was only one thing that she could do now. She abruptly shot her knee up between his legs, aiming directly where Toushirou had taught her some time ago. Not that she had ever actually done this before, but he had insisted that she learn. Though confused by the necessity at the time, she was thankful for it now.

Kenta let out a sharp cry, and his grip loosened. Momo wasted no time on sympathy, instead flinging the door open and rushing out into the frigid chaos that had suddenly gripped the village. The cliffs. She just had to get to the cliffs and make sure that Toushirou was all right. Surely she could manage that. What would a soldier care about a girl like her?

She closed her ears to the sounds of suffering around her, even though she could not close her eyes to the sights. She couldn't afford any clumsiness that might impede her progress or draw unwanted attention upon her. Even so, she almost stopped short at a smear of blood in the dirt, bile rising in her throat when she thought of how it must have gotten there. No. No thinking about that. At least there wasn't a body to go with it.

Or there wasn't at that particular spot, anyway. Several metres ahead, as she continued to run, Momo caught sight of a body sprawled on its back, eyes staring sightlessly into the sky. This time, she did pause. It was pure instinct. And her mind was torn between horror at the scene, and relief that it wasn't Toushirou. He was okay, of course. He had to be. She just needed to get to him so that she could keep him that way, was all.

Toushirou was smart. He wouldn't be running around out here. But that didn't mean that these soldiers wouldn't head out to the cliffs and find him there.

She was just about to bolt again when she felt a rough hand squeeze around her forearm. Was Kenta trying to stop her again? Well, she wouldn't have it. Momo whirled about, ready to lecture him again, but then she stilled at the sight that awaited her. That wasn't Kenta. The dour face, bloody sword, and strange armour gave that away quite readily.

"Well, what have we here?" the soldier asked breezily. "Going somewhere, girl?"

* * *

Snow capped the cliffs under his feet, and with the absence of any such weather in the sky, Toushirou knew it could be the fault of none other than the dragon. But oddly enough, even though the cold was seeping forth from his body, no ice crystals formed on his skin, no frostbite threatened to blacken his limbs. How did that work, exactly? Not that he wasn't glad that this seepage was leaving him unscathed, but still. It just didn't make any sense.

"You stupid beast, why the hell are you doing this? Answer me!" he snarled.

He knew better than to expect an answer, if truth be told. The dragon had said that it would not speak with him again until he figured out for himself what was going on. And figuring things out for himself was all well and good – and what he preferred to do in most cases – but he just didn't have time for it right now. He needed to stop this power before it harmed his family. He needed answers, damn it.

As his anger grew, he could feel crackling ice form at his feet, a harsh winter wind blowing over him. No. He couldn't let that happen.

He closed his eyes, sucked in a slow breath. If he was going to do this, then he had to calm down a little. He had to be as cold as the ice that the dragon channeled through him. The ice stopped cracking and the wind died off into a weak but still frosty breeze. Better. It seemed that the more emotional he got, the worse the power bled. Shouldn't be too difficult to keep it in check, then. All he needed to do was be calm. Be calm and think.

There was an indignant rumble in his mind, and he wasted little time in ascribing it to the dragon reacting to his insult. Well, if it didn't like being called an idiot, maybe it shouldn't act like one.

The rumble came louder this time, as though the dragon had heard his thoughts. But hell, the thing was in his head, wasn't it? Only made sense that it would hear that kind of thing. Well, he wasn't going to stop thinking that way just because the dragon didn't like it. The beast would simply have to endure the uncharitable sentiments.

But Toushirou blinked suddenly, in the realization that the rumble had not merely come from his head. As a test, he mentally called the dragon a brainless fool and fixed his eyes on the tossing waves below. If he was right . . .

This time, the answer was a snarl. And instead of just in his mind, Toushirou could hear the voice rising up from the seas. He stilled, blinking again at having been proven right. Never had the dragon's voice been anywhere but in his head, but it clearly rang through his ears here. The truth crystallized just as crisply as the ice at his feet.

_"Figured it out, have you, boy? None too soon. Take a look back at your village."_

Hm. He must have been right then, if the dragon deigned to speak to him again. Damn beast. It couldn't have just told him this in the first place?

He looked over his shoulder at the dragon's words, and his eyes widened. Smoke billowed up in the distance, the occasional flame catching the corners of his sight. It was that rumoured army, wasn't it? They were sacking the village. But . . . so soon? Hadn't they only been officially sighted this morning?

Toushirou was running in the direction of the smoke before he even realized that he moved. He had to get down there. Had to do it quickly. Momo and Granny were there, and they wouldn't be able to defend themselves. They would need him to offer whatever aid that he could, whether it amounted to much or not. Fighting off soldiers was bound to be different than doing the same had been to bullies, but he would not just let those bastards destroy his family. He would find a way.

A trail of frost formed in the wake of his footsteps, but he paid it no heed. Why should he even care about that? He had far more important things to worry about, and maybe he could pick the dragon's brain, now that it was talking to him.

_You're the ocean spirit, aren't you?_ he asked in his mind. _I want some answers later as to why in the hell you're in my head, but don't take away the powers; I'll need them now. I have people to protect._

The dragon snorted. _"I did not withdraw the powers even when you were being a fool, boy. And I would not withdraw them now. Do you even know how long you have had them? It was long before I began to speak to you."_

He instinctively filed that last bit away for later. It was an intriguing and somewhat unsettling question, but not one that he had time for right now. How long he had held the ability to do such things was irrelevant. It only mattered that he could do them now, and use them in a way that would protect the people important to him.

The chaos and destruction around Toushirou did not slow him in the least; his only concern was to get to Granny and Momo. He only paid peripheral attention to the soldiers as he wove through the village, hopping lightly over dead or dying bodies, slipping a bit in smears of blood. For once, he did not seem to stand out and it only made his journey all the quicker.

Or it did until a hand snagged his shoulder, jarring him to a halt. He blinked for a second to re-orient himself before tilting his head up and glaring menacingly at his assailant. Snarling, he tried to jerk himself free, but the grip was far too strong. Next, he tried clawing at the fingers, but that only earned him a laugh.

"Oh, how cute," the soldier's mocking voice drifted down to him, and he bared his teeth in response. "You're not going anywhere, little one. But you're welcome to keep trying; maybe I'll wait to kill you if you're amusing enough."

Oh, hell, he did not have time for this kind of crap. Toushirou liked to think of himself as the kind of person who was up front about any fight he might find himself in. Trying to fight with a sense of decency and all that, if at all possible. And normally it was. But here and now, decency and honour were just wastes and he could not be bothered with them.

He removed his hand from his captor's and balled it into a fist. While he hated being as small as he was, this time there was an advantage to it. Toushirou jabbed his fist forward, catching the soldier squarely in the crotch at a juncture where there was no armour. It hadn't even taken any particular aim on his part, just a straight shot.

"Agh!"

The soldier doubled over in pain, and loosened his grip. At this, Toushirou managed to wrench himself free and moved to take off again. But the soldier recovered far more quickly than he had expected, and this time his fingers latched onto the back of his shirt, hoisting him off the ground entirely. Toushirou's legs kicked helplessly for a moment before he realized what they were doing. That was just stupid. And so he stilled his legs and scowled.

At the very least, the soldier did not seem unaffected by his blow; his face was still pinched and his teeth clenched in a way that Toushirou recognized as being a reaction to pain. Certainly, the fact that the man was angry as all hell now factored in, but it wasn't all that was there.

"Cheap-shotting little bastard, aren't you? Don't even realize how stupid that was of you, do you, brat?"

Cheap shot? Well, yes it was, and even he could admit that. Still, this man was a soldier, presumably fighting in life or death battles on a frequent basis. To get angry over what was essentially a sucker-punch? Talk about overreacting. How did this idiot deal with his day to day life if something as simple as this got him so upset?

Sniping back to him would have been a waste of time, so Toushirou kept silent. Instead, he worked at the man's restraining arm, tugging and pulling in a vain effort to get it off. Why he thought that this would work when his previous struggle of this nature had failed, he did not know. All he knew was that he had to get out of this grasp, and quickly. He would wind up dead if he failed in that.

Frustration mounted, and he felt the temperature around him plummet, drawing a gasp from his captor. And yet he still yanked at the arm in the hope that it would somehow give way. It was stupid. He knew that. But right now, there just didn't seem to be anything else that he could do.

"Gah! Little bastard! What the hell are you –"

The cry broke off in a howl of pain, and Toushirou found himself deposited on the ground, flat on his back. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself into a sitting position, rubbing idly at his back with one hand. He didn't know what he did to make the man let go, but whatever it was, he had no problem with it.

When he looked down at his other hand, though, he found a bit of a problem. He instinctively recoiled at the severed arm encased in ice, bits of visible skin darkened to pure black. What the . . . Had he done that? He had no memory of the dragon's power flowing through him.

_"Surely you can recognize your own handiwork, boy. You wished for a way to escape this fool and I provided it for you. Do not balk at my aid, or we will have a very difficult time together."_

In spite of his disgust at the situation, Toushirou rolled his eyes at the dragon's snide tone. Just how the hell was he supposed to react to freezing a man's arm off, anyway? It was hardly a normal, every day occurrence. The damned dragon just didn't understand a thing. That was what would make this partnership a trial; not his reactions to the nature of the help.

_"Pay attention!"_

That jolted him out of his self-righteous mood as he saw the wounded soldier lunging at him, blade drawn. On impulse, he gripped the arm in both hands and swung it in a wide arc. He caught the soldier's wrist, knocking the sword from his hand and sending him stumbling. Another swing to the back of his legs dropped him to the ground. Toushirou scrambled to his feet and repeatedly brought the arm down on the soldier's head.

He didn't know how many times he struck him, but in the interest of actually being able to escape this time, Toushirou kept at it until the soldier stopped crying out. And that, coincidentally, was at about the same time that the hand broke off his impromptu weapon. Ugh.

Lip curled in disgust, he tossed the arm aside. Oh, he was going to have a little chat with the dragon later about that kind of brutality. He was not that vicious. No matter that he had just beaten a man – possibly to death, but he didn't know and didn't care to know – with his own severed arm. The dragon had caused the situation in the first place, and he was only using what was convenient.

He took off at a run again, taking extra care this time not to run into any more soldiers. Making a habit of freezing off men's limbs was hardly on his list of things to do. That list currently consisted of only: find the family, protect the family, and lecture the dragon. But he could at least save that last one until after this hellish experience was over.

Though he hated to admit it, he might still need the dragon's help.

* * *

Momo's eyes hardened. Being caught like this was not going to stop her. She swung her leg out, aiming for where she had struck Kenta, but she caught a flash of steel out of the corner of her eye and she abruptly tried to pull it back. Unfortunately, this resulted in her losing her balance, only held upright by the soldier's hand, and she felt a hot line of pain graze down her thigh. She bit her lip at the sensation, but did not cry out.

The soldier regarded her sternly, one eyebrow lifted. "Damn. You know where to aim, don't you? Surprising, for such an innocent-looking thing. Almost makes me curious to find out what else you know."

Momo blinked, trying to process this, her mind having a tough time reconciling the implication. But when realization dawned on her, tears welled up in her eyes, and she frantically tried to yank her arm free. No. No, no, no. She would not allow such a thing to happen, would not be taken without a fight.

"Hey! Let go of her!"

Her head jerked up at the sound of Kenta's voice, and she saw him rushing to her aid. And . . . was that Granny following behind? She shouldn't have been out here. It was too dangerous for her. None of them should have been out here. But Momo could not have just left Toushirou to these people; she still needed to find him.

She seized the opportunity that Kenta's shout brought her. At last, she managed to wriggle her arm free while the soldier was momentarily distracted, and gave him as heavy a shove as she could manage before turning to run. Hopefully, she had put him off balance.

And perhaps she had, but not enough. Momo yelped when she felt a rough impact to her cheek, and she stumbled to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, and instinctively prodded the sore spot on her face, only to feel blood warmly stain her fingers.

"Coming to hasten your death, boy? For the sake of this?" The soldier kicked her lightly in the side, and she whimpered. When he spoke again, his voice sounded almost thoughtful. "Hm. You must be the one she practices on. I suppose she must be good at it, if you're willing to risk your life for her."

Indignation flared through her, ill-advised though it might have been. How dare that man . . . How dare he insinuate such filthy things about her and Kenta? She glared up in his direction. "I do nothing of the sort! Watch your mouth!"

"Momo! Don't provoke him!" Kenta snapped at her before turning his eyes back to the soldier. "That's not the only reason to protect someone. Now just leave her alone; I didn't come out here for a fight."

Though she kept silent, Momo huffed at the order. She'd had every right to start lecturing this man. Letting someone get away with that kind of talk was just wrong. Many were the times that she had been forced to be the voice of reason in a dispute because she wasn't afraid to speak out when she knew someone had to intervene.

Her anger melted when she caught sight of Granny standing several feet back from Kenta. The woman had not said a word since she got here, and that worried Momo. Granny was an outspoken person, not afraid to talk when she needed to. Perhaps she didn't think she needed to, though Momo could not fathom why.

She had a sudden urge to rush to Granny's side to make certain that she was okay. In fact, she was halfway to her feet to do just that when it struck her that Toushirou would be in the opposite direction. He was the reason that she'd come out here in the first place. But Granny was right here, and it was dangerous, and . . .

Which way should she go? Could Kenta protect Granny? Tears of frustration ran down Momo's cheeks. She just had no idea where she was needed the most.

She stood at last, finally coming to a decision. She would help take care of things here, then tell Kenta to take Granny back to the house while she looked for Toushirou. That would work out for everyone, surely.

"Momo. Get back here."

Now Granny spoke, and it wasn't quite what Momo had wanted to hear. She couldn't just stand aside. What if Kenta needed help? She was not incapable of providing aid. All she had to do was be quicker. Or find something that she could use as a weapon. If she had failed at getting a kick to the groin to land, perhaps she could still manage a good solid whack to the head.

"Now, now, the young lady isn't going anywhere." The soldier lifted an eyebrow in the direction of Kenta and Granny. "I suggest the two of you back off; I might actually be inclined to spare you that way."

Momo flinched away when the soldier made another grab for her arm, her eyes darting about for something to use as a weapon. The hand never reached her, but not just because of her own efforts; Kenta's hand closed around the man's wrist.

"I told you to get away from her." Grimly, he interposed himself between her and the soldier. "And listen to your grandmother, Momo. Get out of here."

"I'm not going to just –"

"Go!"

Momo's eyes widened considerably at the tone; she had never heard Kenta speak so harshly to her, or to anyone. He was such a soft-spoken person much of the time. It just didn't seem to be something that was in him. But even that would not dissuade her; Momo was quite poor at being an idle bystander.

She noticed a hint of movement in the soldier's sword arm, and made a move to latch onto it as it drove forward. A different hand unexpectedly latched onto her wrist this time and jerked her back, leaving her own hand to grasp ineffectually at the air.

She knew that it was Granny, but any more coherent thought than that was cut off by the scream Kenta let out when the sword rammed into his gut.

* * *

Toushirou was getting damned sick of the necessity of all of this.

He'd actually frozen one soldier's legs to the ground without even touching them this time, and he could not shake the mental image of the legs breaking off at the knee, leaving the man to writhe and scream in agony. It wasn't sympathy. He had no sympathy for these bastards. It was just that the practice was disgusting as all hell.

The dragon sighed in his mind. _"That you have been doing something so extreme by your standards is not my fault, boy."_

He snarled in response as he continued to run, doing his best to ignore the scattered bodies on the ground. Bodies of people that he had known all his life, even if he'd hated them. Most people in the village were ignorant assholes, but that wasn't the kind of thing that required a death sentence. They, despite their bigotry, had been a part of his life and had others that they cared about; he would not and could not condone this slaughter.

_Not your fault? These are your powers, you idiot! You're just channeling them through me. Sure as hell can't be my fault._

His pace quickened, the sense of urgency in him steadily rising. He was getting close to home, and there was a part of him that worried that he might be too late. That Granny and Momo would already have been messily torn apart like several of the other villagers he'd seen on his frantic dash through the battleground, all because he hadn't been there to protect them.

It was a stupid thought, and he knew it. He really did. Granny was smart enough to stay out of this mess, and Momo . . . Well. Granny could restrain her from doing anything so stupid as running around through a war zone. Really, he didn't have that much to worry about. Everything was fine.

And if he could actually bring himself to believe that, it would help.

_"You are the conduit, yes,"_ the dragon continued in an exasperated tone. _"But as such, you are also the one that regulates the flow of power. If you keep relying upon raw emotion, you will get results that you clearly do not want. Exactly what happened to that brain of yours, that you're not using it, boy?"_

Toushirou wanted to rise to the bait, but there was no time for this bickering. He added this little exchange onto the list of things to lecture the dragon about when a better time came along. Even so, he could not help a bitter correction passing through his lips. "I have a name, you know."

_"As do I. Perhaps if you pay attention, you shall learn it."_

Stupid dragon, acting as if its name mattered. This was a crisis situation; such matters were trivial. He flat-out refused to acknowledge that he was just as guilty of this one as the dragon. There was no point to that, either.

He heard a scream. While he could not count that as unusual – similar sounds echoed dimly in the back of his mind, relegated to mere background noise in his focus – he knew that voice better than he knew most others. He had, after all, taken care to note everything he could about Kenta just so that he could be prepared to defend Momo from him when the time inevitably came. And Kenta had been an expected guest at the house today, so that meant . . .

Ice crept up the walls of buildings as he passed them, a new urgency in his step. Momo could be there. Perhaps Granny, too. No doubt existed any longer as to whether they were in danger.

* * *

The world blanked out around Kenta as soon as the blade pierced his flesh, slipping neatly between his ribs. Somewhere, over the roaring in his ears, he heard Momo shriek. It must have been bad, then. Over everything else, except perhaps her sweet nature, she was a brave girl. She wouldn't scream like that over a minor thing.

He felt the heavy presence of the blade in his stomach, the heat of his blood spilling onto it, leaving him cold. One hand closed against the blade in an effort to pull it out. Surely he could manage that, and then he would eventually recover. Even though logic dictated that belly wounds like this tended to be fatal. There could be exceptions. This would be one of them.

This needed to be one of them, or Momo could be the next victim.

Another cry tore forth from his lips as the sword twisted inside him, sharpened edges digging into organs. That cry turned into a cough as blood rose to his throat and nearly choked him. He made every effort he could to ensure that the liquid spattered on his lips and chin instead. He couldn't afford to choke. At least not yet.

He managed to open his eyes even as the blade twisted further, his vision blurry but still present. Good. He'd need to see. If he had the strength, he would have spared a backward glance to assure himself that Momo and her grandmother were okay, but he had enough sense to know that such an action was not going to happen.

Drawing a shaky breath, Kenta shoved at the sword while trying to step backward. Though he met with some success, along with it came even more pain; the blade tore through yet more tissue as he sought to remove it from his body. He was only making the damage worse, and on some level he knew that, but he could not stop now. He couldn't defend Momo with a sword in his gut.

The edges of his vision darkened. No. No, no, no. This couldn't happen. Not yet. He just needed another moment to get free of the blade, and then everything would be fine. At least long enough for Momo to be safe. That was what mattered most.

He gasped when the blade suddenly rammed back in with more force, digging even deeper into his body. Damn it. There was no way he could make it now. Strength rapidly seeped away from him, and his hand relaxed, arm dropping limply to his side.

Involuntarily, his gaze lifted over the shoulder of his soon-to-be killer, and he swore he caught a glimpse of a small form with white hair approaching them. The demon-child that Momo was so fond of, perhaps? She'd said that he was protective of her. Kenta had no choice anymore but to trust that. Perhaps the boy would use whatever supernatural means he had to keep her safe.

Another twist of the sword, and Kenta felt something rupture inside of him. He wasn't quite sure if he screamed or not, but that didn't matter. Heat poured out of him along with the blood, and a massive chill swept through his body.

Was death really supposed to be this cold?

* * *

Toushirou almost stopped short at the sight ahead of him. Had that actually been Kenta standing between Momo and that soldier, protecting her? Some part of him did not want to believe that. It would mean that he might have been wrong about the young man's intentions all along. He hated being wrong, especially when it came to what was best for Momo.

On the same, formerly unknown instinct that had served him on his rush through the village, Toushirou pulled his hand back, ready to push it forward and drive a blast of frigid air at the soldier's sword arm. Hell if he cared whether he dismembered this one or not; the bastard was threatening his family.

Family who would be directly in the path of any blast he sent out right now. Damn it. He leashed the gathered power, hoarding it for a better opportunity. Maybe if he concentrated enough of it, he could freeze the man solid where he stood. Much less messy than any other way of dealing with him.

"Shirou!"

Oh, the stupid girl did not just call his name. What idiocy. The soldier hadn't noticed him yet and he could have surprised him. Instead, the man turned around abruptly, blade covered in gore and leveled in line with Toushirou's throat. Wonderful. Really. Having the element of surprise just would have been too easy, he guessed.

Still, he did not slow his pace, even in the face of the bared weapon. He could still do this. When the sword pulled back to slice at him, he dove between the soldier's feet, kicking at one leg in an effort to knock him to the ground. Unfortunately, he didn't possess enough strength for that and all he managed to do was bruise his own leg against the armour. Damn, that hurt. He would have dealt with the pain better had his tactic actually worked.

And then the soldier suddenly stumbled, much to his confusion. What the hell? He hadn't hit him again. Nevertheless, he scrambled over Kenta's already cold body and pushed himself to his feet. Had Momo actually made a move to hit the soldier for him? Stupid girl. That was too dangerous.

But when he finally stood, he saw that it was not Momo who had taken action.

He couldn't help but blink when he saw Granny standing there, cane held as a club rather than a support. What the hell was she doing, stepping in like that? He'd been fine. There was no reason for Granny to have put herself in this kind of danger. That single blow seemed to have taken a lot out of her; she remained in the same position, deep breaths heaving her aged body. She would not be able to defend herself against any ensuing counter.

And one came before he could even move, but at least it was with the soldier's fist rather than his sword, ramming into her stomach. His temper flared, and along with that flare came the dragon roaring in his mind. There was a beckoning quality to that roar, but he did not have the time to ponder that before Granny stumbled hard into him, knocking both him and Momo to the ground along with her.

The urge to pry himself free was instinctual. Granny was small, but she was bigger than him, and if he didn't extricate himself he would have a difficult time breathing. He couldn't protect anyone if he couldn't breathe. Doing his best to ignore the dragon, Toushirou wriggled free, and finally fired off that blast of cold air that he'd saved.

Ice crystallized on the soldier's breastplate, causing him to blink but otherwise not giving him any pause. Damn. He should have aimed more carefully instead of just shooting off the moment he could move; the power had been a complete waste.

There was no time for him to properly react before the soldier grabbed his shoulder and roughly flung him aside. He tumbled clumsily over Kenta's body and rolled to a stop several feet away. But he did not allow himself to lie there motionless; as soon as the momentum gave out, he pushed himself to his knees and lifted his head to see what was happening.

Granny found it in herself to swing her cane again, this time aiming for the soldier's wrist. While he did not drop his weapon, the attack seemed to distract him enough for Momo to aim a solid kick to his groin. In spite of himself, Toushirou grinned a bit in vindictive pleasure. He'd taught her that move; it was good to see that she was indeed capable of putting it into practice.

But the grin didn't last. Their enemy still wasn't down, and even if they defeated him, there were so many more just like him. The only options they had were to flee carefully, or to take out the entire opposing force.

Why that second thought even occurred to him, Toushirou did not know. Like hell that was even an option. Sure, he had the dragon's powers flowing through him, but that would hardly be enough for something on so large a scale. Unless the dragon had been holding out on him.

He gritted his teeth as he watched Momo and Granny continue to struggle against their foe. Now that he thought of it, he had no idea whether or not they were hurt at all. Kenta had clearly gotten the worst of it – maybe even on Momo's behalf, he was willing to acknowledge – but that was hardly and assurance that they were unscathed.

_"If you wish to do that, you need to listen, boy."_

He blinked at the dragon's words, and darted quick glances about the village. Homes were crumbled, bodies were strewn across the ground, and an onrush of soldiers came into view. Escape was not going to work. Not with such a presence of the enemy anywhere near them. He was going to need the dragon.

_Can you do this? And don't be all arrogant and say that you can if you can't. This is serious._

The dragon snorted. _"I already told you that I can. You're not paying attention like I told you to. If you listen, you will find the way."_

Perhaps later Toushirou would find the will to be offended by this, but right now there was no time. He would have to trust that the dragon knew what it was talking about and wasn't just trying to puff itself up. It was the only chance he had.

Closing his eyes, he drew himself inward, the sounds of battle around him fading almost entirely from his senses. Listening, was it? To the roaring? Perhaps it meant more than he had previously assumed. He focused upon that sound, giving full attention to every nuance. There was a rhythm to it, he discovered, an almost discernible flow of words that weren't really words. That had to be what the dragon wanted him to hear.

He was acutely conscious of his brow furrowing in concentration. The words. He had to make out the words. Once he latched onto what they were, his lips began to move without his command, slowly and softly repeating them. They were nothing but nonsense to his mind, but perfectly pronounceable in spite of his lack of knowledge. And he knew he had them right. The sudden swell of power was proof of that.

_"Better. Now that you have that, do you know?"_ The dragon's voice was more gentle than he had ever heard it, but he sensed a wave of anticipation flooding through the spirit.

_I know,_ he responded silently. He knew the question this time. _I know your name._

Nobody knew the ocean spirit's name. They had never been able to refer to it by one, and none had dared name it himself for fear of drawing the spirit's wrath. The name of a spirit was considered almost sacred, and only that spirit could tell anyone what it wished to be called. But Toushirou knew this one; it gave him the key to protecting his family. And so he called it out in a firm and clear voice when the incantation ended.

"Hyourinmaru!"

* * *

Ggio shoved his latest victim off his sword, and examined the blade almost thoughtfully. Then, shrugging, he wiped it off on the corpse's cheeks. Nothing wrong with a little blood of course, but having his weapon completely coated with the stuff was a bit much.

He made it a point to stomp on the villager's skull as he went by for no other reason than to hear the satisfying crunch. Hell, maybe he should just sheathe his sword and fight hand-to-hand for the rest of the raid. That was always more fun, and it wasn't like these people were putting up any kind of a decent fight anyway. Just as he'd predicted. Some part of him actually wished that Ozaki had been right and the village did have a demon in it. That would have made things a lot more interesting.

Oh, well. Not every raid could be fun and exciting, he supposed.

He had his sword halfway back into its sheath when the temperature around him rapidly plummeted, and he shivered in spite of himself. What the hell? It wasn't as though there was any wind to speak of that could account for such a sudden and drastic change. His face already ached from the chill and his teeth chattered noisily. What could have happened?

Ggio barely managed a gasp as a heavy presence in the air sought to steal his breath from him. It pressed against him from all sides, powerful and raw, and it was almost all he could do just to stay on his feet. Damned spiritual awareness; it could be crippling at times like this. But where was this force coming from?

A rough cracking sound caught his attention from behind him, and when he turned, his eyes widened at the ice rapidly advancing over the ground. Spying an abandoned market stall, Ggio leapt atop the table just before the ice would have crashed into his legs. He blinked in disbelief as it continued to spread beyond him, freezing everything in its path, person and property alike. Even the villagers along with his own men. Whatever generated this had no discretion.

"Hm. Maybe Ozaki was onto something after all," he mused aloud. "Seems like the kinda thing a demon would do. Only there still ain't a demonic presence. So what exactly is out there, I wonder."

This bore investigation, no matter the effect the mere presence of the power was having on his body. If there was something supernatural going on in this village, then General Luisenbarn should be informed of such. As the officer in charge, Ggio would be the only one capable of giving a proper and coherent report. Assuming he could get close enough to determine the source, that was.

He hopped off the table, landing carefully on the ice. It was rough and uneven, rather than smooth and slippery, but he would still have to watch his footing. All he had to do was follow the path it had come from and he would see exactly who or what was causing this mess.

He sprinted forward at a slower pace than he normally might have, owing both to the ice and the oppressive presence he was approaching. But as long as he could still move, he would get nearer still. The general deserved to have this kind of information. It could be important to his conquest.

The ensuing roar knocked Ggio off his feet.

He covered his ears against the noise, but forced himself to lift his head and look up. Whatever it was, he needed to see. General Luisenbarn would have to know.

For a long moment, he was so still that an outside observer would think that the ice had taken him like it had taken so many others. If said observer could tear his eyes away from the massive dragon that appeared no more than a hundred or so yards ahead of him. The day's fading light reflected off pale blue scales, red eyes glowed with something so deep and primal that he could not name it.

Another roar, and yet more of the village fell under a steady storm of ice, screams cut off as bodies froze, echoes smothered by their frigid tombs. That dragon . . . it was the cause of all of this. But where had it come from so suddenly? He would have noticed the approach of such a beast.

Ggio squinted his eyes toward the dragon's feet. He could make out three figures there, though whether they were untouched by the dragon's abilities, he could not say. Ozaki's words came back to him again, and a theory formed in his mind. This kid that Ozaki had mentioned as being a demon. Could he instead be a magic-user of some sort? One that could summon such a powerful creature?

It sounded absurd that some brat would be capable of such a feat, but Ggio had nothing else to go on. That kid could be one of the people at the dragon's feet, and taking him out could possibly make the dragon vanish. As long as the beast was here, he wasn't going to be able to accomplish his objective.

And he was not stupid enough to think that he could best the dragon directly.

With much effort, he pushed himself to his feet. Damn, the pressure the dragon was exerting on the air was a burden. He would need to move fast if this were going to work; speed was normally his strongest point, but it was severely hampered here. At least the dragon wasn't paying any attention to him.

He darted forward as best he could manage, and reached for his dagger. All he needed was to get close enough to determine his target and get a clean shot. Plus put some extra force behind the throw to ensure that the weapon even made it to said target in the first place, with all the extra weight in the air. Then, if he was lucky, the dragon would fade out of existence along with the one who summoned it.

There. A girl, and old woman, and a kid. Focusing in on the last of these, he raised his hand, ready to make the throw.

Instinct made him abort. He scrambled to a stop and twisted his body sideways, but the dragon's tail still struck a glancing blow. And even that glancing blow was enough to fling him into the air and send him sailing several yards only to meet a harsh landing. He clutched at his stomach as pain bloomed there. If any ribs were cracked, he did not know; the sound of the impact had been overwhelming.

His eyes had squeezed shut when he'd been hit, but he forced them open now. The dragon crouched almost protectively over the three people at its feet, tail lashing at the empty air, wings beating violently. It growled deep in its throat, and Ggio could feel the ground resonate with that noise.

He flinched when the tail came down toward him again, not having enough strength for a proper dodge. Its tip crashed into the ground just short of him, drawing a deep furrow in the earth. In spite of this, the dragon extricated it with no discernible effort and set it to lashing again.

Oh, hell. He was not staying here. That would only lead to his death and he would not let that happen on what was supposed to have been a minor raid, no matter what trouble had sprung up without warning. As one of General Luisenbarn's commanders, he was better than that. It was why he had been chosen. And he still needed to report the presence of such a being to the general; that seemed more crucial than ever now.

Ggio forced himself up, doing his best to ignore the pain in his stomach. He was out of range of the dragon's tail, so as long as he didn't catch the beast's attention properly, he should be able to escape. He hissed at the sharp agony that made itself known in his bones. Okay, there were definitely some cracked ribs there.

But he was a trained soldier, damn it, and something like that was not going to stop him from moving. With a quick glance to ensure that the dragon's attention was elsewhere, he gathered what strength he could and broke into a run; it would only get easier the further away he got.

He did not bother to signal his men for a retreat. Most were very likely dead, caught up in the icy waves caused by the dragon's power. Any that were still living had already fled, if they had any sense. And if they didn't have that sense, then they deserved to die.

* * *

Toushirou did not know how he was still on his feet..

His head swam, limbs felt weak, and yet somehow he remained standing. The world was a blur around him, and he could only make out the barest sights and sounds. He heard Momo and Granny call out his name. He saw Hyourinmaru breathe ice. The only thing around him that felt real was the chill creeping over him, seeping into his very core.

Would he freeze to death doing this? How utterly ironic, given how he had been virtually unaffected by cold all his life.

_"You worry over nothing, boy. I will shield you now as I did then. The cold will not destroy you so long as we are connected."_

He wasn't sure what other time Hyourinmaru was referring to. Not that it mattered, anyway. The point was that despite how he was feeling right now, having summoned the dragon was not going to kill him. And that he was successfully defending his family. Did he really need anything else?

Toushirou blinked in an effort to clear his vision. To his surprise, this actually worked, at least a bit; the world around him came into sharper relief. He still couldn't much tell what was going on, what with the pounding in his head, but at least it was something. Sheets of ice dominated his vision, with aberrations that he could only assume were people who had gotten caught in its path.

People . . . It took a moment for the thought to form in his throbbing head, but when it did, it chilled his heart in a way that had nothing to do with Hyourinmaru's power. He didn't want to think it. Didn't want to know it. And yet he found himself asking anyway.

_Hey! You'd better be being careful, you idiot dragon! There's innocent people here, too! You can't go around attacking just anyone!_

He knew Hyourinmaru had heard him; there was no reason for him not to. Even so, the dragon's attack did not abate in the slightest. That was wrong. He was trying to exert control, telling the damned beast to stop, and just wound up being ignored. Just because most of the villagers had treated him like crap didn't mean that he wanted to see them all dead.

_That's enough, Hyourinmaru! Enough!_

The pounding in his head was getting to be too much for him to take. Toushirou fought desperately against it, willing himself to stay conscious and put a leash on Hyourinmaru's power. If he didn't do something, he had no way of knowing that Granny and Momo wouldn't be caught up in the violence as well.

In the end, the pain proved too much, and consciousness snapped away. He did, however, get the satisfaction of feeling the dragon's presence in the world leave just before the blackness took him.

* * *

"How do you feel now? Are you warm enough?"

Momo tugged the cloak a little tighter around her shoulders and stared into the fire, her eyes watering. The wood for these flames had once been somebody's house. She couldn't help but feel that she was the one actually destroying the home even though it was in pieces when she'd gone to gather the wood.

Still, she forced a smile for Granny's sake. "I feel much better now. The fire's really helping." Her eyes cut to Toushirou, who lay next to her, unresponsive but still breathing. He had never looked so small to her before. And yet . . . "He's going to be all right, isn't he, Granny? He didn't get hurt by all that, right?"

Granny crouched beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm certain he's just exhausted. I've checked him over, and aside from a few bruises, there's nothing physically wrong with him. Just let him rest, Momo. What he did today would drain anyone's strength."

Momo nodded shakily. Granny was right, of course. She always was. Even so, the memory of what Toushirou had done was not a pleasant one. That great dragon, so beautiful and yet so destructive . . . How had he summoned it? Since when could he do something like that? People had always assumed that he had powers, but before today he had demonstrated nothing of the sort.

"There! I knew it!"

Her head snapped up at the sound of voices, and she watched Granny leave her side to stand in front of Toushirou. Was it those soldiers again? She hadn't seen any of them since the dragon vanished and all went quiet.

Wincing as she put pressure on her injured leg, Momo moved to stand beside Granny. Nobody unfriendly was going to get near Toushirou if she had anything to say about it. Sadly, though, recognition of the voice came to her. It was no soldier. Rather, it was a villager, and while she was happy that someone else had survived, that didn't mean that Toushirou was safe from them. Most of the village had treated him very badly in the past.

The firelight revealed not one figure, but three, two men and a woman. Like her, they were bundled up in ragged cloaks, and sported the occasional bloodstain on their clothing and faces. But unlike her, all of them bore enraged expressions. Well. Anger wasn't an unreasonable reaction to having one's home destroyed. Where that anger was being directed was a problem, though.

"Quit protecting him, you two!" the smaller man snarled. He jabbed a finger toward Toushirou. "He called upon that beast to destroy us! Can't you see that? What more evidence do you need that he's a demon? How can you deny that now?"

"He is nothing of the sort," Granny cut in, using a low, vicious tone that Momo had never heard from her before. "And he did no such thing. It was an urge to protect that spurred this. Not an urge to destroy."

"Protect?" The woman spat off to the side before leveling a glare at the two of them. "What, exactly, did he protect, Miyu? Look around you! Nearly everything in the vicinity of the village is dead!" She paused here, choked off a sob. "My children, Miyu! My children froze to death because of that monster! It needs to pay!"

Momo's expression softened. How awful, to lose her children like that. And if they'd really died the way she said, then Toushirou was going to feel horrible when he woke up. It wasn't his intention to hurt anyone but those soldiers. Of that, she had absolutely no doubt.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am for your children," she said softly. But she planted her feet more firmly in case any of them tried attacking. "And I know Shirou will be as well. But he didn't mean it. He's not like that. He's not a monster!"

"If you two don't have enough sense to see what's going on and move aside, then –"

"Katashi, just drop it, okay?" The other man's hand came down on the first one's shoulder. "Don't waste your time on them if they won't listen. Let them keep their demon if they're so convinced that it's not what he is." He glanced over to the woman, who was still shaking with rage. "You too, Natsumi. Killing the demon will not bring your children back."

Natsumi swept a glare around at everyone before storming off. The unnamed man had to drag Katashi away, but the latter at least went without any struggle or protest. But the anger and disgust on his face would stay with Momo for a long time. People . . . People really thought that this was all Toushirou's fault. Even down to the army at all, maybe. How could anyone think that?

Her leg throbbed, and as soon as the three villagers were out of sight, she allowed herself to drop to her knees. The day had been such a long one, and she was so very tired. But she didn't know if it was okay to sleep or not. There were so many things to worry about now.

"What do we do, Granny?" she asked. "We can't rebuild with so few people. And even if we could, the ones that are left think Shirou is to blame for everything. We wouldn't be able to stay. They'd only try to hurt him more."

Granny leaned her weight onto her cane, and breathed a heavy sigh. "We will find somewhere to survive, Momo. All three of us. Once we're rested and Toushirou is awake, we'll travel south. There are many settlements that way. There will be a place for all of us."

Momo only nodded and looked down at Toushirou. He was still asleep, but did not look peaceful. And if he knew what happened, then he would not be so for quite some time. She wondered what he was dreaming about right now. Did he know what happened?

* * *

_"I told you to stop, damn it! Why the hell didn't you stop?"_

_The icy ocean was still this time, and had that registered in Toushirou's mind he might have wondered about it. As it was, he was far too busy laying into Hyourinmaru for his conduct. The damned dragon had taken far too many lives._

_Hyourinmaru rumbled in disapproval, turning one enormous red eye in his direction. "There is more to controlling my power than mere commands, Toushirou. You will learn that. And the task was not done."_

_He narrowed his eyes at this excuse. Wasn't done? That wasn't the dragon's job to determine. If he was supposed to be directing the power, then it was up to him to decide when to stop. "The task was to destroy that army, not to kill everyone in the village! Momo and Granny –"_

_"Are alive and well. I did not harm them." Hyourinmaru snorted. "You wished to protect them, I provided the means, and they were successful. You've nothing to complain about."_

_Relief swept through him when he heard that his family was safe. Hyourinmaru had brought about such destruction with no apparent care as to who he was attacking that there had been no telling whether Momo and Granny would have found themselves targets as well. That they were alive was indeed the most important thing, but surely there hadn't been the need for so many lives to be taken to ensure that._

_"But if you insist on being bothered by all this," Hyourinmaru continued, " I can begin teaching you what you need to know to prevent it in the future."_

_Toushirou regarded him steadily, searching for any trace of mocking in those words. But somehow, in spite of their harshness, there was none. So, the dragon wanted to teach, did he? Well. Toushirou figured that it was probably several hours before he would wake up, so he had the time to get started right away. He would not let something so disastrous happen again._

_He folded his arms across his chest, and scowled at Hyourinmaru. "All right, then. Teach me."_


End file.
